Us Against Them
by phoebecaulfield92
Summary: Ryan has a sister. Takes place at end of pilot.
1. Chapter 1

US Against Them

Ryan Atwood picked his way carefully through the debris littering the front yard. His sister, Emily, was leaned up against the house smoking a cigarette.

"Hey, Ry," she said taking one last drag and flicking the cigarette into the yard.

"Hey, Em. Where you been?" he asked. The last time he saw her was the afternoon before he and their brother, Trey, got arrested for stealing a car. It had only been three days, but it seemed much longer.

She shrugged, "Around." She wasn't about to tell him she'd been crashing at the Fountain Street house.

Ryan saw the black and blue ring under her eye with matching bruise on her cheek and frowned.

"AJ?"

"Ran into his fist a couple times," she answered.

It must have happened the night he was arrested. Their mother had left him in jail overnight and Emily hadn't been home the next night when he got kicked out.

Ryan glanced at the front door which stood half open.

"It's empty, Ry," she informed him.

"What do you mean empty?" he asked, alarmed.

"I mean she finally did it. Cleared out, no notice, no forwarding address. Gone."

Ryan pushed the door open fully and walked room to room unable to comprehend how his mom could just ditch them like this. He then spied the note on the kitchen counter. Like that made it alright just because she left a note.

By this time, Sandy Cohen had made his way to the house and was standing in the doorway. He was a little taken aback when he saw Emily. She was obviously Ryan's sister. She was basically a female version of Ryan. Same dirty blond hair and ice blue eyes. He also noted she had the same black eye and hardened look on her face. It saddened him. How could someone do this to their children?

"C'mon, Ryan, you guys are coming home with me," he said.

Emily grabbed her backpack and said, "I got a place to stay. I'm good."

"I'm sorry, did I give the impression that you had a choice?" Sandy was smiling as he said this, but he was serious.

"Nah. It's cool. One homeless Atwood is more than enough for anyone. See ya, Ry," she said and started toward the street.

Sandy put a hand on her arm to stop her. Her instant reaction was to jerk away. She looked at her brother, not sure about this man. He seemed OK, but why would he take in two homeless teenagers, one of whom he met in juvenile detention?

"It's alright, Em," Ryan assured her.

She looked from Ryan to Sandy, warily, then shrugged and said, "Whatever."

"I'm Sandy Cohen, by the way," Sandy introduced himself as they walked to his car, "I'm your brother's lawyer."

"Emily."

"Are you two twins?" he asked. They looked so much alike and were definitely close in age, if not.

"Thirteen months apart. Irish twins," Ryan answered for Emily.

"I bet you get asked that all the time. You look so much alike," he was making small talk trying to make Emily comfortable.

"Yeah," was all Ryan replied with. He wished he was in the back seat with Em. He knew she was still mad at him. He had a feeling the fight with AJ had been about him and it made him angry that he hadn't been there to protect her.

Emily leaned back in the seat and closed her eyes. Fountain Street was not a very restful place to spend the night and Ryan would kill her if he knew that's where she'd been crashing. She was still mad at him for getting arrested. She had figured out Trey was trouble by the time she was three. The two of them had never gotten along. Why did Ryan let him get in his head? Emily drifted off and remained asleep for the entire journey.

"Em?" Ryan said and gently shook her by the shoulder.

She sat up with a wince, confusion and alarm in her eyes.

"Geez, you were really out. Not much sleep last night?" he asked. He had a feeling he knew where she'd been hanging out, but now was not the time for that conversation. It's not like either of them had a whole lot of options some nights.

"I guess. Hey, where are we?" she asked.

"The Cohen's. Newport Beach. Check this out," he pulled her out of the car so she could see the house.

"Is this where you were last night?" She was in awe of it's size.

"Yeah. You missed the view on the drive here. Wait til you see the ocean!" Ryan couldn't wait to show her. He knew she loved the water.

"Where's Mr. Cohen?"

"Inside. His wife is pretty cool, but I don't know what she's gonna say to two of us staying here," he said with a frown.

"What's his deal? I wouldn't take us in. Especially now that you're a felon," she couldn't help throwing in that little dig. She was still upset with him.

"I guess he feels sorry for us," Ryan shrugged.

"Yeah, well I don't need any pity," she said and headed down the drive with her bag.

"Where are you going?" Ryan walked after her.

"To have a smoke and figure out what I'm gonna do after I get kicked out of here, too," she said with annoyance. In Chino she had places she could go. Not safe places necessarily, but places. She knew how to handle herself. She had no idea what to expect here. Plus, she figured child services would be called at some point and she was not going back to foster care.

"Just give it a chance, Em," Ryan said. He had felt the same way last night.

"When child services get here, we'll end up separated and put in some group home. We're better off in Chino on our own," she told him bluntly.

Ryan put his arm around her. Emily had already spent time in the foster care system when his mom decided that three was just too many.

"It beats Fountain Street," he said. The look she gave him confirmed his suspicions.

Before she could respond, they saw Sandy Cohen making his way down the drive.

"Emily, come meet the rest of the family. Ryan, the pool house is still set up for you."

Sandy put a hand on each of their shoulders and steered them toward the house.

"Emily, this is my lovely wife, Kirsten, and our son, Seth," Sandy began the introductions, "Lovely wife and son, this is Emily."

"Are you and Ryan twins?" Seth wanted to know.

"Irish twins," she replied.

"Huh?"

"Thirteen months apart. I am obviously the better looking one, though," she smiled at him.

"Oh, a funny Atwood. Interesting," he said smiling back at her.

"Emily, please ignore my son," Kirsten said, "Let me show you the guest room. There are towels and a toothbrush for you in the bathroom."

Emily followed Kirsten up the stairs of their massive home. She was suddenly embarrassed by the black eye and bruise on her cheek. These things had never bothered her much before other than that they hurt. She realized how grubby she really was from three days without a shower and sleeping on the floor of the local party house.

"You two really do favor each other quite a bit," Kirsten remarked. _Right down to the black eyes, _she thought sadly.

"It's the matching bruises," Emily attempted to joke. She knew what Mrs. Cohen was thinking. They got the same looks at school from teachers all the time.

"It's OK, Mrs. Cohen," Emily said quietly, "Ryan and I are used to it."

Kirsten turned toward Emily and looking directly in her eyes said, "Emily, it is certainly not OK. Don't you ever think that it is."

Emily didn't know how to respond to that. She knew that Mrs. Cohen was right, but at the same time, it's just kind of how it is sometimes. She wouldn't understand.

"Why don't you get a shower and I'll see if I can find something to put on that," she said guiding her toward the guest room with it's ensuite bathroom.

"Thank you, Mrs. Cohen,"

"Call me Kirsten and it's my pleasure," she assured Emily.

Emily stripped off the filthy tshirt and jeans she'd been wearing for the past three days. She took a good look at herself in the full length mirror. She took in the large purple bruise on her ribs where AJ had kicked her after she fell from the first hit. She wondered absently if any had been cracked. It hurt like hell if she breathed too deeply.

The hot water felt so good streaming down her back, but stung when it hit her face. The shampoo and shower gel Kirsten had provided smelled so good she didn't want to get out. She finally figured she'd been in long enough and reluctantly turned off the tap. As she was toweling her hair dry, it occurred to her that she hadn't brought her bag upstairs. The clothes she had stuffed inside weren't exactly clean, but they were certainly better that what she had just taken off. _Damn,_ she thought. She didn't want to put her grimy clothes back on.

Emily wrapped the towel around herself and poked her head out into the bedroom not sure what to do. On the bed lay jeans, a shirt, and even underwear and a bra. Kirsten had left a note on top.

_My sister left these behind. I hope they fit. Leave your clothes outside the door and Rosa will wash them for you._

_K_

Everything fit just fine and for the first time in months, Emily felt some of her anxiety lift. She opened the bedroom door and went downstairs to find her brother and to thank the Cohens again.

She wandered into the kitchen and was greeted by Sandy Cohen.

"Hey, Emily, you want something to drink?" he asked. He already had the refrigerator door open and was pulling out some kind of flavored water for himself.

"Sure," she said astounded by the array of choices. She wasn't old enough to consume any of the beverages in their refrigerator in Chino.

"Try this," he said and handed her some kind of citrus green tea drink.

"Thanks," she said opening it and taking a huge swallow. It was really good. She realized she hadn't eaten anything in over twenty four hours. She gulped it down.

Sandy sensed she must be starving. "Did you have a chance to get lunch? I didn't have much myself. I was just about to make a sandwich. Can I get you one?" He figured if she was anything like Ryan she wouldn't want to feel like she was putting him out.

"Yeah, that would be great, Mr. Cohen," she said gratefully.

"Call me Sandy. Mr. Cohen is so formal," he smiled at her.

Sandy pulled out the sandwich ingredients and got to work. He didn't know what she liked, but she didn't comment so he just went with what they had on hand.

Emily had taken a seat on one of the barstools next to the breakfast bar. Sandy stood leaning against the kitchen counter as they ate.

"This is really good." She was trying not to wolf it down, but she was really hungry.

Sandy nodded in agreement. She was more talkative than Ryan he noted. That wasn't saying much, however.

She finished up and Sandy put her plate in the sink.

"Why don't we see what the boys are up to?" he said and led her to the living room where they were playing some kind of video game involving lots of shooting and blood spatter.

"Hey, Emily, you wanna play? You're brother kind of sucks," Seth said.

"I doubt I'm much better," she said.

"That's OK, I like to win," he grinned and threw her a controller.

As it turned out, she picked it up pretty quickly and soon it was game over.

"So you're funny and good at video games. You're like the anti-Ryan," he observed.

In truth, it was not just their looks that were similar. She and Ryan were alike in a lot of ways not all of them good.

"Wanna go, Ry?" she asked.

"Why not? It won't be the first time you've kicked my ass," They had been known to get into once in a while. When they were younger and more evenly matched, she often got the upper hand.

Seth raised an eyebrow at that and handed over the controller. Emily beat him soundly within minutes. He really did kind of suck.

"What else do you guys do around here for fun?" she asked.

"You wanna hit the pool?" Seth asked.

"I don't have a suit," Emily answered.

"No, prob. MOOOOOMMMMM!" Seth yelled.

"Em needs a bathing suit. We want to swim," he said as his mother entered the room obviously annoyed at her son.

Ryan could tell Emily was embarrassed and for some reason the whole thing struck him as funny. His laugh drew a death glare from both Kirsten and Emily. _Geez, girls are scary!_ He thought and immediately stopped laughing.

"Sorry, not funny," he said still smirking.

"I'm sure I've got something that will do, Emily," she said and motioned for her to follow.

Kirsten took Emily upstairs to retrieve a box of things left behind by her sister. There were actually several suits to choose from. The only problem was they were all two pieces.

"Mrs. C-"

"Kirsten, please. Mrs. Cohen makes me feel old!"

"Kirsten, I can't wear a two piece."

Kirsten looked at her and said, "Honey, if I looked like you, I'd wear nothing but bikinis all day long!"

Emily didn't know what to do. She didn't want Ryan to see the huge bruise over her ribs. He would just get angry and then feel guilty even though there wasn't anything he could have done. She had actually heard him laugh today. She didn't want to ruin his mood.

"It's not that," she said. She hesitated, then added "I don't want Ryan to see this." She lifted her shirt to reveal the bruised ribs underneath.

Kirsten let out a small gasp. "You need to have that looked at."

"No!" Emily said more forcefully than she had intended. "It's fine. I don't think there's any broken ribs. It doesn't even hurt that much." That was a lie. It had been three days and it still hurt if she breathed too deeply or moved wrong.

"Emily, telling your brother is up to you, but you're going to the doctor," Kirsten said firmly.

"Kirsten, please, I'm fine. Really. I shouldn't have told you," Emily pleaded.

Kirsten softened at this. She didn't want Emily to think she was angry with her. She was just so angry that anyone would allow this to happen to their child and the mama bear in her was coming out.

"Emily, I'm glad you told me. I'll make an excuse to the boys, but you're going to be seen by a doctor like it or not. I'm the mom. That's how it works," she smiled at her.

Ryan looked at his sister suspiciously. Kirsten had informed them that she and Emily were heading out to do some shopping so they would have to entertain themselves without her presence. He saw the look on her face and he knew something was up. She was only a slightly better liar than he was and he was terrible. What was she keeping from him?

Emily hated doctors. Ryan used to tease her that she would rather bleed in the street than see a doctor. He wasn't too far off base. They were both frequent flyers in the ER. And that's just the stuff they bothered to get seen for. Mostly they just sucked it up like Emily was trying to do before Kirsten dragged her here.

She had had more parental concern in the last few hours than she had probably had in her whole life and she wasn't sure how she felt about it. On one hand, it was kind of nice to be taken care of by an adult. On the other hand, she was sitting in a paper gown in yet another ER awaiting an X-ray. She sighed and grimaced with pain.

Kirsten saw her flinch. "We'll be done here soon," she assured her. She had offered to stay in the room with Emily, but left the choice up to her. Emily was surprised to hear herself ask Kirsten to stay.

The doctor finally made it back into the room with the x-ray film.

"Well, you've definitely got some cracked ribs in there, young lady."

"Can I go now? There's nothing you can do for it anyway." She hadn't meant to sound so rude, but this was hardly the first time she'd gotten this news.

"I can see that you are not a first timer when it comes to broken ribs," He knew this from the x-ray, but could have surmised it from her attitude just as easily. Just because this was Newport Beach didn't mean he didn't see cases of abuse.

"Go ahead and get dressed. I'll give you something now and get you a prescription for some pain meds. Then we can get you discharged. Sound good?"

"Yes, thank you," she said relieved.

"Mrs. Cohen, let's go out in the hall and I'll get you the paperwork," he addressed Kirsten.

Emily got herself dressed and waited for them to return.

As they walked toward the exit Kirsten asked, "Do you want me to pull the car around?"

"No, I'm fine," Emily just wanted to get out of there.

They walked the short distance in silence. Emily slid into her seat and Kirsten noticed that she winced once again as she pulled the seatbelt over her.

"The pharmacy is on the way home. Let's fill this and get you home," she said.

"Thanks, Kirsten. I'm sorry I gave you a hard time. I hate doctors," she apologized.

"You and me both. Seth was almost born at home because I stalled so long going to the hospital," she laughed.

Emily let out a chuckle and winced.

Kirsten looked at her with concern and told her, "Emily please don't lie to me again."

Emily gave her a confused look.

"It's ok to admit it hurts," she said.

Emily nodded.

"Good. Now how are we going to explain coming home with no shopping bags?"

"Ryan already knows something's up. I guess I'll just tell him," Emily said with a frown.

"You two are really close, huh?"

"Yeah," Emily found she was feeling very sleepy. It must have been from whatever they gave her at the hospital.

Kirsten noticed her eyes getting heavy. "I'm going to get you home."

Emily nodded and closed her eyes.

They soon arrived at the house. Emily wasn't quite asleep and opened her eyes as soon as she felt the car come to a stop.

When they walked in, Seth immediately noticed the lack of shopping bags.

"It's a miracle! My mother went shopping and returned with nary a bag!" he exclaimed.

Kirsten shook her head at him.

Emily looked at Ryan nervously. She really didn't want to tell him.

"Hey, Seth, why don't we give Ryan and Emily some time alone," Kirsten suggested and hearded her son out of the room.

When they were finally alone, Ryan looked at her and said, "What's up, Em? You may as well just tell me."

"Ryan, you have to promise me you'll keep it together. There's nothing you can do about it and it's over. Understand?"

Ryan could already feel himself getting angry. He had a pretty good idea what it might be.

"Ryan? Promise?"

"I can't promise that, Em."

"Then forget it." She turned to go upstairs. She really wanted to lie down.

"Ok, Em," he said with a resigned sigh. "I'll do my best. That's all I can promise."

She nodded then raised her shirt so he could see the bruise.

She saw him clench and unclench his jaw. "Broken?" he asked angrily.

She nodded. He put his arms around her in a gentle hug. He was afraid of hurting her more.

"I'm OK, Ry. It's not like it's my first one," she tried to reassure her brother.

"Emily, I'm so sorry," he said, the guilt apparent in his voice.

"Ryan, don't. I'm fine. I can handle it," she hated it when he got like this. If he'd been there, AJ would've just beaten the crap out of both of them. As it was, he got Ryan the next day anyway.

"How'd Kirsten get you to go to a doctor?" He was curious. She wouldn't have bothered to go in Chino. Not even for him.

"She didn't give me a choice," Emily admitted.

"And that worked? It never works for me," he said.

"You always give me a choice," she teased, "I choose to do the opposite."

"Like Fountain Street?" he asked clearly not happy that she'd been there.

"Don't start, Ryan," she warned.

"I don't want you there. Period."

"I needed a little help to get through the night, ok?"

"No, Em, it's not ok! None of it is ok!" He was shouting now.

"Ryan, calm down. They'll hear you. It's not like I'm some junkie shooting up in the bathroom there. I needed a place to crash and a couple of painkillers, alright?"

"What?"

"A couple shots of tequila and I smoked a little weed. No big deal." She needed the shots to dull the pain so she could inhale.

"It's a big deal to me," he said some of his anger receding as it dawned on him why she was seeking out something for pain.

"Yeah, well you were a little busy stealing cars with Trey, weren't you?" It was a low blow, but if he wanted to get all self righteous about a little weed then she was going to give as good as she got.

They stared at each other, anger flashing in identical sets of eyes. Neither was willing to back down. Emily felt a sudden wave of dizziness and she grabbed Ryan's arm to steady herself.

Ryan's anger immediately turned to concern as he guided Emily onto the couch.

"I'm fine, Ry," she protested.

"Yeah, I see that," he responded with a frown.

"Are we done fighting now?" she asked.

"For now," he smiled at her. Their fights were intense, but never lasted long.

"Do you think it'd be ok if we walked down to the beach?"

"Are you up for that?" Ryan wasn't too convinced she was alright.

"Oh, yeah, I am now. The Vicodin is definitely kicking in," she grinned at him.

He sighed and shook his head. She liked to joke about that kind of stuff, but he really did worry about her. He wasn't going to let her end up like their mother.

"C'mon, Dr. House, let's go," he led her out of the house down to the beach.

They walked along the beach in silence for a while. Emily was tired, but the Vicodin had dulled the pain somewhat.

"You ready to go back?" Ryan asked. He could see she was tired.

Without thinking she answered, "Not really, but I guess we can't stay here."

Ryan gave her a quizzical look.

"Ry, they're gonna call child services Monday. What then? We need to bail."

"That's not what I meant," he said.

"Whatever. I'm not waiting around for that. As soon as I get my scrip, I'm gone," she said firmly.

"Why do you need the scrip," he asked suspiciously.

"To sell. I can get ten bucks a pill," she informed him.

"Do you hear the words coming out of your mouth?" He was angry with her again.

"It's a means to an end. Not a lot of legit jobs when you're fifteen," she answered defiantly.

"Emily, these are good people. They're trying to help us," he tried to reason with her.

"Ry, our own mother doesn't give a shit about us! Why should they? You can come or not, but I am not going into foster care again," she stormed off angry at Ryan, her mother, the world. Angry tears threatened to spill and she didn't want him to see her cry. One thing you learned pretty quick in Chino

was not to cry in front of anyone.

She stumbled in the loose sand and the sharp pain in her ribs brought her to her knees. Ryan sank down next to her and pulled her to him.

"It's ok, Em," he said softly, "I'm not mad."

"Well, I am!" she sobbed. "Why did you have to steal that stupid car? Huh?"

"I'm sorry, Emily," he didn't know what else to say.

"Yeah, well sorry don't mean shit does it?" she spat at him.

"No, I guess it doesn't. Just don't hate me, Em," he pleaded.

Emily looked at her brother. He looked so defeated. He looked like she felt.

"Ryan, I could never hate you. I'm not even all that mad at you anymore. I don't know what I am," she confessed.

Ryan took in the full picture of his baby sister. She was too thin, bruised up, and exhausted. It was his fault and he needed to make it up to her.

"Well, I know what I am," he said and grinned, "Hungry! C'mon, you know they're gonna have something good tonight."

"Do you ever think beyond your stomach?" she grinned back at him, "You're gonna have to help me up ." He got her to smile. Score.

Ryan put his arm around her shoulder as they made their way back to the Cohen's house. They would figure it out. It had always been Ryan and Emily against the world. And they wouldn't go down without a fight.


	2. Chapter 2

Fountain Street

_Em,_

_I'm going to find a job and a place. I will come find you as soon as I can. I promise. _

_Love,_

_Ryan_

Emily read the note from her brother again, not understanding how he could just ditch her. _Like mother, like son, _she thought as she crumpled the note and crammed it in her backpack. That really wasn't a fair comparison. Their mother had just left. He wanted to come back for her. He was only sixteen, though. If he tried finding her, he was just going to get picked up himself. It was stupid. He should've taken her with him.

She stuffed what little she had in her backpack and crept quietly down the stairs. She heard Mrs. Cohen in the living room arguing with someone on the phone. She held her breath and made her way to the front door. She made it through without being noticed. She ducked behind a pillar when she saw headlights sweep the cul-de-sac. It was just Marissa's Jeep heading out of the subdivision.

Emily made her way down to the main road not sure what to do next. She could hear Ryan's voice in her head telling her how she just doesn't think. Maybe he was right, but he'd never been in foster care. She was not about to go back. She would have to make it up as she went along.

Not knowing where else to go, Emily headed back to Chino. She caught a ride to the highway with some drunk high school kids. From there she got another ride with a young couple who took her nearly all the way to her destination and handed her some religious flyers when she got out. She thanked them and immediately trashed the flyers. There was no God in Chino. She walked to Fountain Street.

Emily slept on the floor in one of the upstairs bedrooms at the Fountain Street house. It was the local party/drug/flop house. She had no business being there and didn't even really want to be. She didn't have anywhere else to go at the moment. Plus, it was the best place to unload the Vicodin she had gotten for her broken ribs. She needed the money more than the painkillers. But for now, she had a book and was trying to ignore the partiers who were just starting to stir after sleeping off last night's activities. Soon the house would be overflowing with junkies looking for their first fix of the day and people looking to start tonight's party early. She sighed and tried to think about her options. There weren't many.

At least it was daylight again. She could hang out around Chino, see some friends, maybe find another place to crash or at least get a shower. She was hungry and actually had a couple of dollars for once. She threw her book in her backpack and stood up ready to head out.

As she stepped over passed out bodies in the hallway and headed for the stairs, she thought she heard her name. She froze and listened.

"Have any of you seen Emily? Emily Atwood? Looks like me, but a girl?"

_Shit. It's Ryan. _She thought he would've been long gone by now.

Emily went back up the stairs. She heard him asking around, but nobody really knew anybody's name here. You can't trust a junkie not to throw out your name when they were getting arrested.

"You mean Toto?" That had to be Travis. He gave everyone some dumb nickname. How Auntie Em became Toto in his mind, she'd never know.

"Emily."

"Yeah, Toto. You know, Auntie Em, Dorothy? I call her Toto. She's been around. Don't know if she's still here," Travis informed Ryan.

Emily heard Travis and Ryan's conversation coming closer to the stairs. It was then that she remembered the stairs leading down from one of the back bedrooms. It wasn't the first time she had had to run from this house. She entered the bedroom as she heard her brother coming up the stairs, Travis in tow.

Emily crawled through the window and headed down the dilapidated stairs that had been built haphazardly probably for the very reason she was using them. The cops busted this house a lot. She ran almost all the way to the bottom then hopped the railing and ran down the street. She spotted a Range Rover parked around the corner. She would have to think about what that meant later. Right now she needed to get as far away as possible.

Ryan saw the open window in the bedroom. Taking a closer look out he saw a figure running down the sidewalk. He couldn't be sure it was Em from here. By the time he made it back down the stairs and out the door whoever it was had disappeared into the neighborhood. Emily was good at hiding. It wasn't uncommon for her to go three or four days without surfacing. When the Cohen's realized Emily wasn't with him, Sandy came to Chino, but he didn't know where to look like Ryan did. Emily avoided all cops so she was unlikely to get picked up.

She slowed to a walk. It still hurt to breathe deeply. She picked her way through backyards, avoiding the house on the corner with the pit bull. She wondered if Ryan was in the Range Rover and if anyone was with him. Was he back at the Cohens? Were they looking for her so they could send them to child services together? _It won't matter, _she thought, _we'll still get separated. _They should have taken off after the first night in Newport Beach.

Emily got a sandwich and a Coke at the gas station. She couldn't help but think how much better Mr. Cohen's sandwich had been. She wondered if she had made a big mistake by coming here. Maybe she should try to find Ryan. Emily decide against it. She was too tired for the inevitable fight. He was right. She didn't think and he wasn't here to bail her out this time. For the first time in her life she felt alone. She needed a plan.

Chino after dark was not a good place to be wandering around. Not that it was all that great during the day. Without any other viable options available, Emily started back to Fountain Street. She figured she could unload the rest of her Vicodin and hit the road in the morning. She walked the full length of the block that the house stood on looking for the Range Rover. She didn't see it, so she walked to the back of the house and entered through the sliding door to the kitchen. Nobody came in through the front door, just out if the cops came.

The house was dark. She vaguely remembered the house having electricity at one point, but having utilities cut off was commonplace in this neighborhood. She allowed her eyes to adjust and looked around for a few people she knew would want the pills. She spotted a guy everyone called Mook, for reasons unknown, sitting in one of the lawn chairs set up around the makeshift dining room table. He would give her $8 and turn around and sell them for $10. She didn't care. She just wanted to get rid of them and get out of town. She kept two for herself and approached him. She made the deal and headed toward the stairs to maybe catch a little sleep in the back bedroom.

She didn't get very far before Travis found her. "Hey, Toto, some guy is looking for you."

"Yeah, I know. I heard you this morning, so I bailed out the back."

"No, I mean now. He's here now."

She looked around quickly trying to guage which exit she could get to as she heard Ryan calling her name.

"Did you tell him I was here?" She asked in alarm.

"Was I not supposed to?"

Ryan spotted her in the doorway between the kitchen and living room. She glanced behind her. The sliding glass door was now blocked. The only way out was upstairs and out the window or the front door. Both of which she had to get past Ryan to access.

_Shit._

"Em, c'mon, we're leaving," Ryan said to her.

"I'm staying," she said without moving. He would have to carry her to get her out. She stood her ground.

"No, you're not," Ryan grabbed her arm. She twisted away from him and he caught her around the middle. She let out a small cry. He immediately let her go. He had forgotten about her cracked ribs.

That was all Emily needed. She turned and ran toward the front door. She knew the house better than he did and was better able to navigate the bodies and debris in the dim room. Ryan was stronger now, but she was still faster. She barrelled through the front door leaving it swinging open.

She jumped the porch steps and sprinted around the back of the house. She ignored the searing pain in her ribs as she zig zagged through the neighboring yards heading to the next block. She rounded the corner and looked behind her. Ryan was still in pursuit, but she had a good size lead. She needed to lose him. Her ribs were killing her and she was starting to slow down. She circled back around to the end of Fountain Street.

Emily crouched low against the side of a house using a garbage can as cover. She wasn't even sure why she was running. He'd come looking for her twice. It wasn't like she wanted to keep sleeping on the filthy floor of some party house the rest of her life. She stood up just as she heard the woop woop of a police car. Emily did not trust cops and though she would never admit it, she was afraid of them, too. She did the only thing she could think of and ran back through the yards, emerging on the next block. The police car was approaching from the cross street, so she headed in the opposite direction.

Ryan had heard the siren, too. He wasn't anxious to get questioned by the cops, either. Not knowing what to do he headed back to the car. He and Sandy had come this morning, but Sandy had to go to court that afternoon so they returned to Newport when they couldn't find her. It was Luke of all people that offered to drive him back to Chino. He figured beggars can't be choosers and accepted the ride.

"Hey, Chino, I don't want to have to deal with any more cops," Luke said.

"Especially in this town," Ryan agreed, "She can't be too far, I guess we could drive."

They hopped in Luke's truck and drove back up and around the block in the same direction as the police car. He spotted Emily talking to one of the cops on the sidewalk. _Please don't have any pot on you, _Ryan silently pleaded.

They pulled around the police car and Ryan rolled the window down, "Em, it's time to go home." He hoped the cop wouldn't ask too many questions and would just let her go.

"Do you know this girl?" An officer asked Ryan.

"Yes, she's my sister," he figured he may as well just tell the truth and hope he let them go.

"Do you have any idea why she was hauling ass through people's yards?" Cops in Chino got right to the point.

"I imagine she was running from me, Officer," Ryan replied.

"Is that true?" he asked Emily.

Since her options were leaving in the back of squad car or leaving with Ryan she answered with a small, "Yes."

"See that she gets home safely. This is a shitty neighborhood," the officer said to Luke and Ryan and walked back to his patrol car.

Emily climbed into the backseat of the truck. She was tired and sore and needed a shower. She slumped in the seat, wincing slightly as her ribs were throbbing. Ryan got in the back seat with her.

_Great, _she thought, _we can fight all the way back to Newport. Hope Luke enjoys the show._

But Ryan didn't say a word. He just put his arm around her and she rested her head on his shoulder. And once again she slept the entire way to Newport Beach.


	3. Chapter 3

Emily wandered around the Bait Shack trying to escape the watchful eye of her brother. She wanted a drink and they were easy to score if you were a girl and weren't being watched like a hawk. It wasn't even so much that she wanted a drink. She was just getting a little sick of Ryan policing her. Ever since he picked her up at the Fountain Street house, he was just always _there. _They were only thirteen months apart. It's not like he had all this worldly experience to impart to her. They had had the same crappy childhood and were equally able to handle anything that came their way. In fact, it was just in the last couple of years that Ryan had an advantage over her in a fight. She usually won when they were younger and it wasn't because he let her. She briefly considered picking a fight with him now so she could storm off. She decided against it because he might just drag her home and the evening would be cut short for everyone.

_Speak of the devil, _she thought as Ryan once again honed in on her in the crowded club.

He handed her a Coke. She glanced in it as he said, "It's just Coke."

"Thanks," she said. He heard the edge in her voice. God, she was in a mood tonight.

"Where's Marissa?" she asked. Marissa would have some liquid fun with her.

"On the wagon tonight," he informed her not giving in to her obvious desire to argue.

"Not what I asked, Ryan." She rolled her eyes at him.

Ryan was not in the mood for a fight tonight. Emily had a quick temper, but so did he and things could get way out of hand rather quickly when the two of them went at it. Fortunately, over the years he had learned to navigate her somewhat mercurial moods.

"C'mon lets try to de-suck this night," he said and put his arm around her to steer her upstairs.

She wrinkled her nose and grinned. "Did you just say de-suck?"

"I'm sorry. Is it un-suck? I always get those two confused."

"Funny. Don't quit your day job, Ry."

He knew if he was back to Ry and not Ryan, she was in a better mood already. They set off to find the others and head upstairs. They caught up with them and the five of them headed up the stairs. At the first landing, they heard Weezer's Beverly Hills. Emily loved this song. She and Ryan thought it was hilarious considering they were from Chino.

She held her hand out to Ryan. He took it and they did a little dance. Ryan was not a dancer and they were in the way so they started back up the stairs, Emily and Ryan in the lead.

"I guess this is your song, isn't it?" sneered Nick Hammond. "You and your slutty little sister."

Marissa put a hand on Ryan's arm when she saw him stiffen at the remark. Nick Hammond was a world class douche and she didn't want him to get in trouble for fighting again.

"What did you say?"

But it wasn't Ryan who spoke.

"What did you say, you stupid prick?"

It was Emily. She was livid.

"You heard me you white trash little bitch," he taunted. His friends laughed.

Without warning, Emily drove her fist into his face. She felt a sickening crunch as he doubled over, blood pouring out. Everything just stopped for a second.

Nick's buddies rushed forward as Seth yelled, "Run!"

The five of them raced down the stairs, shoving their way through the packed dance floor and out the door. Nick's friends were close behind. They hurled themselves into the Range Rover and were pulling the doors closed as Ryan tore out of the parking lot, tires squealing.

Ryan slowed down when he realized they were not being followed.

"What the hell was that?" he yelled, glancing in the rearview mirror at the same time Seth turned to the back and said, "That was awesome!"

Emily flicked her eyes quickly at Seth, but refused to look at her brother. She remained silent. Her adrenaline was still flowing and she was still pissed.

"Do you think she broke his nose?" he asked Ryan.

Ryan shot him a warning look. He was not ready to discuss this with anyone but Emily. And by discuss he meant yell. _She just doesn't think._

Emily finally looked up and caught Ryan's eye in the rearview mirror. He was obviously not happy with her and she was just daring him to say something. He drove around for a little while. It was too soon to go home without arousing some suspicion and he was hoping to calm Emily down. After the initial shocked silence, the girls and Seth once again began chattering away. Ryan gave short one word responses. Emily remained silent, staring out the window, wishing she could escape.

Eventually, Ryan turned the SUV toward home. He dropped Summer and Marissa off at Summer's house. He barely had the car in park before Emily jumped out and headed toward the house. Ryan let her go. There was no point in trying to talk to her when she was like this.

Emily entered the house with the boys not too far behind. She was heading upstairs, the boys to the living room when they heard, "Hold it!"

All three of them stopped and turned around to find Sandy Cohen standing there with the cordless phone in his hand.

"Would anyone like to tell me why I just got a call informing me that the Hammond's won't be pressing charges, but I will be getting a bill for their co-pay?" he asked.

None of the three of them spoke.

"Ryan?"

"Don't look at me," Ryan answered.

"Yeah," Seth chimed in, "Talk to Muhammed Em-Ali over there!"

Ryan and Emily both glared at him. Sandy looked slightly confused.

"You two," he said to Seth and Ryan, "Disappear."

He pointed Emily in the direction of the kitchen, "You. Sit."

Emily sat on one of the barstools as directed. She looked down at her shoes. Her hand was beginning to throb. She hadn't been in a fight in a while. She forgot how much it hurt to hit someone that hard.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" Sandy asked reaching into the freezer and handing her a bag of frozen peas.

Emily put the bag on her hand, but remained silent still looking down. Her hair hung in front of her face, so Sandy had even less idea what she was thinking than with Ryan.

"You broke his nose," Sandy continued.

Emily looked up at him, a surprised look on her face. She wasn't sorry.

"I'm guessing he probably won't be telling too many people that he got his nose broken by a girl."

"He had it coming," Emily shrugged.

Sandy wasn't sure how to respond to that. She was more defiant than Ryan, but at least she was honest.

"That may be, but you can't just go around punching people in the nose."

"Because I'm a girl?" she asked annoyed.

"Because it's not right," Sandy was trying not to lose his patience.

"I'm still not sorry," Emily said and hopped off the barstool. "Are we done?"

Sandy sighed and said, "For now. Go on up to bed." He couldn't help smiling to himself at her boldness. And he knew Nick Hammond. He probably did have it coming.

Emily headed upstairs grateful that Ryan was nowhere in sight. She was drained. It was late and the adrenaline had definitely worn off. She didn't have the energy to fight with her brother right now. It could wait until tomorrow. He really could just save it. She knew what was coming. You don't think. You can't punch everyone who pisses you off or say the first thing that pops into your head. Blah, blah, blah. _Like he's never been in a fight in his life._

Emily awoke much earlier than she would've liked. She wondered if Ryan was up. They had kept similar hours and shared a room for so many years that it wasn't uncommon for them to awaken at the same time even if they were apart. Emily rolled over and sighed. If he was up, she wanted to avoid him. And the Cohens. And life in general for a while. She pulled the covers over her head and went back to sleep.

Eventually, she had to get up. She sighed as she hauled herself out of bed to brush her teeth and get dressed.

Emily started down the stairs and toward the kitchen. She wasn't expecting to see Sandy on the couch. She frowned a little, but didn't turn back.

"Hey, kiddo, I thought you left with the boys," Sandy greeted her.

"Figured I was grounded," she shrugged.

"Oh, yeah. The nose thing. I guess you probably should be," Sandy smiled.

"So Ryan's not here?" she asked.

Noting the relief in her voice, Sandy replied, "You're avoiding him I take it."

She shrugged again and wondered if she really was grounded or not.

Sandy patted the chair next to the couch. Emily took a seat, but stayed silent wondering if she was about to get in more trouble.

"Why don't we hang out for a while since I guess you're grounded. Consider it part of your punishment," Sandy joked.

Emily hadn't spent much time with Mr. or Mrs. Cohen. She called them Sandy and Kirsten as they had requested, but in her head they were Mr. and Mrs. Cohen. It was less personal. She didn't share much of herself and the only person she really trusted was Ryan. And even he sometimes got the edited version of events.

"I gotta admit when I got the call I assumed it was Ryan. Who knew you could throw a punch like that?"

"I got a lot of practice with Ryan and Trey," Emily said with a small smile.

"I guess you and Ryan are more alike than I thought."

"I'll pay back the money for the co-pay," Emily promised.

"Don't worry about it. I know Nick Hammond. I'm sure he did have it coming. Can I ask what put you over the edge?"

"I don't know," she admitted, "Ryan always tells me I don't think. I guess he's right. He's constantly on my case lately. We were actually having a good time for once. Usually it's Ryan that punches first and asks questions later."

"Ryan is a little overprotective, huh?"

Emily held up her thumb and forefinger about an inch apart.

"Getting a bit much at the moment?"

"It's been a bit much for fifteen years."

"He was really worried when we couldn't find you. We all were," Sandy told her.

Emily mulled this over for a bit. It hadn't occurred to her that anyone other than Ryan would ever worry about her. No one ever had.

"I can take care of myself," Emily said.

"I don't doubt that," he answered, "But you shouldn't have to."

She had never thought about that either. There had never been any other options.

"Doesn't much matter when there's no choice," Emily replied.

"No, I suppose that's true," Sandy agreed, "But you don't have to anymore, Emily."

"I don't know how to not take care of things myself," Emily admitted. It surprised her that she would even say the words aloud.

"We'll start small," Sandy said, "Have you ever seen The Godfather?"

"No," she said a little confused.

"I was just about to start the trilogy. We're going to spend the day with the mob. See how I just made that decision for you?" Sandy smiled at her.

Emily laughed, "OK."

"You're going to love this. Brando is amazing," he said as he grabbed the dvd.

"Hey, Sandy," Emily said, "I know one way Ryan and I are different."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah," she grinned at him, "I win my fights."

Sandy laughed and they settled in for an afternoon of couch surfing. After a couple of hours, Sandy asked Emily if she was hungry. He paused the movie to order some food. They were getting back into the movie when Seth and Ryan arrived home.

Sandy paused the movie again, "Hey, guys, food should be here any minute and we're almost to Godfather II. Care to join us slackers?"

"I could eat," Seth said, "Ryan?"

Ryan shrugged and glanced at Emily. She was looking down at her hand. He wondered if it still hurt and felt bad that he wasn't the one to deck Nick. She looked up and caught Ryan looking at her. She crossed her eyes and stuck her tongue out.

Ryan shook his head, smiled, and said, "Yeah, sounds good."

The doorbell rang and Sandy asked Ryan to help him grab the food. He payed the delivery man and handed Ryan some cartons. Before they headed back to the living room, Sandy stopped Ryan with a hand on his arm.

"Ryan, listen, it's ok to back off a little," he said.

Ryan looked a little confused at this.

He continued, "With Emily. It's ok. You can let Kirsten and me be the parents."

Ryan hadn't even thought about it before. He had just always looked out for her. That included getting onto her for doing something stupid.

"I guess I have been kind of on her case lately," he admitted.

"The Nick thing is handled. You don't have to worry about taking care of everything anymore," Sandy told him, "Just be her brother."

Ryan nodded and they made their way to the living room. Emily and Seth had gotten plates and they all got busy filling them. Emily plopped down on the floor and sat crosslegged next to Ryan. He nudged her with his elbow. She nudged him back with a grin. The uneasiness that had been between them since Fountain Street was finally beginning to dissipate.

Emily was getting a little sick of the Corleone's, but she was enjoying hanging out with what she was now starting to consider her family. Kirsten walked in to find the four of them sprawled across the living room, empty food containers strewn about.

"Good Lord, Emily, what do these boys have you watching?" she asked.

"The entire Godfather trilogy," Emily said making a face.

"Upstairs, Lifetime?" Kirsten asked.

"Yes, please!" Emily jumped up.

"Women just don't get it," Sandy said to the boys.

Kirsten and Emily both rolled their eyes as they headed upstairs for some girl time.

Later that night, Emily knocked on the door of the pool house and opened the door. Ryan was leaned up against the headboard, book in hand. Emily sat on the edge of the bed.

"Ok, Ry, I'm ready," she said.

"For..." Ryan asked.

"Let's see, how does this usually go," she began, "First, you have to pace for a minute, then when you're back is turned I give you the finger."

Ryan looked at her with a somewhat baffled expression mixed with amusement.

"Just trying to get all the details right," she grinned.

"Oh wait," she said and stood up, arms crossed over her chest, "I have to stand here silently fuming."

"What's next? Oh, I know it's - You just don't think, Em. Why can't you use you're head? You can't just punch every person that says something you don't like. I will roll my eyes at this because let's face it, you've been in way more fights. Then, I will mutter under my breath that at least I win occasionally."

"How am I doing so far?" she asked.

"Geez, Em, am I really that bad?" Ryan asked, laughing at her rather accurate portrayal.

"No. Sometimes you're worse," she smirked.

"Well, maybe if you used your head and didn't punch out jerks, I wouldn't have to be," he teased.

"I take after my older brother. I can't help it," she teased back.

"Are we good now, Em?"

"Yeah, and I'm sorry, Ry," she said, hugging him tight.

Ryan hugged her back and she added, "But not for breaking Nick Hammond's nose."

"I'm not too sorry about that either. Let's not make it a regular thing, though."

"For you, Ry, I can definitely promise a maybe on that."

"You're a real pain in the ass, you know that?"

"Love you, Ry."

"Love you, too, Em."


End file.
